


Home.

by peko_yamas



Series: Platonic VLD Month [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Shiro and Keith are cousins, broganes, keith just wants a home, mostly a brogane fic, platonicvldmonth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 03:44:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12246342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peko_yamas/pseuds/peko_yamas
Summary: “Home. Home wasn’t a word Keith often used, a house maybe, but he never remembered really ever calling a place a home. His shack in the desert was a close first, but it never felt like a place he’d introduce as his home, it was just a place he lived.”





	Home.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time really writing for the voltron fandom so sorry if its a bit weird or iffy, critiques welcome!

Home.

Home wasn’t a word Keith often used, a house maybe, but he never remembered really ever calling a place a home. His shack in the desert was a close first, but it never felt like a place he’d introduce as his home, it was just a place he lived.

His first home was living with his grandparents, and his mother. While his father stayed with his uncle, both of them working tirelessly to get a place of their own. Keith doesn’t remember any of this, the only memories being contained in old photographs. One of his favourites of his grandfather taking him down to the local loch to feed the ducks and geese. Another one was off Shiro crying and running away when he accidentally angered one of the geese.

His second home was a council flat, he doesn’t remember this house either. All he remembers that it only had one bedroom, and a double bed the three had to share.

His third house, was a bottom floor flat. The earliest house he had memories of. He remembered how there was a forest just across the road, where he spent hours building dens and pretending to be his favourite characters, running through the forest with arms spread wide, often coming back muddy with a scratch or two. He remembered making friends with a girl who lived in the flat above him, they would make up plays, one of his favourites being one where she was a giant butterfly and he was a moth, he doesn’t remember what it was about, he only remembers he had fun.

Shortly after his tenth birthday, his mother had walked out on him and his father. No notes, no goodbyes, only a neatly wrapped box addressed to his father. He never learned what was in it until many years later.

He missed his mother, more than he could describe. She wasn’t the best mother, but his mother nonetheless. Sometimes when Keith tried hard enough, he could imagine black hair that reached her shoulders, and the small memories of him dragging her towards the park and ushering her to push him on the swings. Memories of her dancing to whatever songs were on the radio as the family got ready for the day. He could remember when he would sneak into his father's and mother’s bed, snuggling in-between the two and somehow ending up halfway down the bed when he woke up.

He could remember whenever they would visit his grandparents every Friday. His grandmother would create enough food for him, his cousins, his parents and his aunt and uncle. His Grandmother would always give them ice-lollys and sweets and would laugh whenever his mother scolded her for it.

He could remember Christmas, when his mother gotten a cruise ticket for her and his father to get away from the weekend, and how happy she was. Keith was a bit of a troublesome child when he was six after all.

He could remember whenever his cousin Shiro (In reality his name was Takashi, but when he was younger Keith couldn’t pronounce his name correctly, and the nickname just kinda stuck) came over to stay for the weekend and he ended up breaking his arm when the two had the bright idea to pour bubble mixture all over the floor and use it to slip and slide all over it.

He could remember when the family had gotten their first pet. A black and white cat. Keith had named him after his favourite game character at the point, but somewhere along the line the name became a shortened version of it, Zuma.

Keith remembered crying into the cat’s fur for hours on end when his mother left, until his head felt like it was splitting in two. He remembered falling asleep listening to the comforting rumble of the cats purr.

Not too long after the sudden disappearance of his mother. He and his father moved, putting old pictures and mementos in a box and hiding them in the back of the attic.

His fourth house, another flat.

A fresh start.

Keith never really liked that house, he doesn’t remember why, he just did, but he could remember watching old movies on VHS tapes for hours on end. Rewinding and rewinding to the song numbers to belt his heart out and dance along to it, sometimes acting out the scenes with his cat. It was at this house his father bought him another cat, who he lovingly called midnight due to her pitch black fur.

He remembered in the back there was a giant hill, where he would try to scale every so often, and would hide in the overgrown bushes and grass, playing with two of the other boys that lived in the block.

He remembered one time when he and Shiro were playing hide and seek and he got stung by a wasp, he cried for an hour. And when his father was comforting him and combing grass out of his hair, he had accidental picked out the wasp that had gotten tangled in his messy shag, and flung it across the room, screaming as he did.

He also started in his first year of a new school that year.

When he first joined, he seemed to be a drastically different person. He would work quietly in class and hardly disrupt, he would occasionally snap at people without reason, and would shoot down any attempts to make friends with him, he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t like this before, and his sudden behaviour change was a little concerning to his father, who seemed to look at him with sad eyes.

Keith didn’t really realise until it was too late, all his friendships felt weak, he was constantly paranoid of people upping and leaving him, to the point where he struggled to hang out with his friends until constant thoughts of ‘They’re just going to leave you.’ where all he could think off.

It chipped away at him, slowly at first, until all at once he started to skip days out, until he spent more time studying in the library, didn’t answer texts or phone calls, and would talk to them in quick, snappy sentences.

He hated it.

He hated how he would see the people he used to care about and be so close with enjoying themselves without his company, how they didn’t seem affected at his sudden “disinterest” in them.

That really stung.

During their fourth, or was it fifth move? Keith didn’t really keep count anymore. Keith would stay in his room for hours, doing nothing but crying and sitting in a ball of constant self loathing.

He could throw things against the walls, hit himself and over things, lash out at inappropriate times, but it didn’t help the loneliness that clawed at him.  
He started flight school.

Keith managed to make a few friends during this time, but he still couldn’t help but hold them at arm's length. He couldn’t help being jealous whenever he remembered that in his friend group quite a few of them had someone they were close too, even if it was online.

He hated that people who instantly think of him as a loner, as someone who didn’t really care. He hated that due to the amount of people who thought it made it true. He hated that due to years of never fully getting over his mother leaving him and his father slowly becoming more distant and angry, years of pushing people away, he thought he could trust and become close with had left him so closed off from the world.

He couldn’t count the amount of times he spent lying in bed, fantasising about venting to someone, or having someone to comfort him when he needed. Someone who would stick with him when he needed it and would be willing to put up with him when he was in a clingy mood. Someone who’d let him just lay on their lap or stomach and talk about the weirdest of things, or just watch movies for hours on end.

He couldn’t count the amount of times he spent crying and wishing he could have permanent houses like his friends or family, to have a place that felt like home, to have a place he could call home. He hated that whenever he went over to his friends, his cousins or his grandparents he could see how lived in it seemed. A place that clearly looks like a home, with so much useless junk acquired of the year, with memories and mishaps all over the walls.

He hated that whenever he looked at his own house he only ever saw a temporary place, somewhere he would eventually move to another place.

How out of place everything felt, when it was messy it was not in the way that it was toys and crayons the floor, laundry and everything out of place. It was just plain, messy.

He hated that somewhere along the line he had just, given up on trying to make somewhere feel like a home, that he’d given up on trying to mend his relationship with his dad, but still, he felt a little ashamed how much he dreamed and thought about having a house (or flat) of his own, whether he lived by himself and his cats, or with a friend, family or maybe a significant other.

When he was 16, applied for the garrison. He didn’t expect to get accepted, but it only made so much more rewarding when he did.

He knew he’d never call this place a home, but, it felt a little nice to live somewhere that seemed a lot more permanent, even if it was only for five years.

Keith hoped that maybe he’d become friends with his room-mate, or a least some of his classmates.

Boy was he disappointed.

His room-mate hardly cared about him, or what he done, and spent a lot of time with their own friend group. And Keith hardly saw him out of class and curfew.

During the two years he was there, he worked his ass off. He would spent hours upon hours studying and doing assignments, he would use free time to practice in simulators, he’d worked hard to get into this school, and he was definitely going to work hard to keep his place here.

Keith wasn’t sure why a certain boy in his classes had this weird obsession with one upping him, the boy would scowl every time he looked his way, and every time Keith tried to fix whatever he’d supposedly done he would just accidentally messing up more.

It was during his second year, Shiro has picked for the Kerberos mission, alongside his best friend, Matt, and Matt’s father.

Shiro was ecstatic when he found out he was accepted, during the weekly family dinner he had been bouncing around the house like he was 6 again and waving his hands in exaggerated motions as he overenthusiastically explained the details of the mission.

Keith was proud of him, he’d worked so hard for this, he’d seen him when he was working through finals. Paler than ever and exhausted from one too many all nighters.

It was such a big event, the day Shiro took off. There was dozens of new reporters and cameras rolling.

Friday dinners were always a little quieter since then.

Keith was determined to follow in his older cousin’s footsteps, and started to work harder.

But with his longer study periods, and more time spent flying the simulation, he seemed to lose a lot more sleep and slowly grow thinner as he started to skip meals in favour of working harder.

It was nearing exam season when the new of the Kerberos mission’s failure reached the public.

 

He hated it, he hated that he acted out in grief, he hated instead of just shutting off from everyone like he did when his mother disappeared he acted on the emotions of losing the person who might as well been his big brother.

It was nearing the end of his exams when he acted out, A lack of sleep and built up stress on top of the pain of losing someone dear to him had been to much. Iverson's voice had been grating on his ears, his constant reminders of the failure of the mission being brought up one to many times. He’d acted impulsively, lashing out at the teacher and accidentally injuring one of his fellow students.

Keith had been expelled shortly after.

When Keith got kicked out from the Garrison, he honestly didn’t want to go back to his old house. It felt useless, he’d just be met with a father who wouldn’t listen to his reasoning and old memories of the person he’d lost.

He had been drawn to a shack in the desert. Only going there with a duffel bag full of clothes and a few of his belongings from the garrison.

The shack was hardly a home, and seemed abandoned for the most part. It had a half empty generator and outdated technology, a single bed that doubled up as a couch and shelf and a table made of bricks with a layer of dust covering it.

It wasn’t much, but it was a house.

He had gotten a job in the next town over, using most of the funds to buy parts for a bike he bought second hand, while the rest was fuel for the generator and food funds. The pay wasn’t that bad, and the hours were decent, and it kept him busy.

It was almost a year since he was booted that his life got turned upside down. Alien readings coming true and a spaceship crashing into the desert. Somehow he had ended up in space with his cousin, and three other students from the garrison, he didn't really know who they were - other than the fact one of them used to scowl at him a lot, thanks to a giant mechanical cat.

Keith hated the castle ship at first. It was so unfamiliar. With giant grey hallways and colder temperatures compared to his shabby desert shack. He spent a lot of time in the training room just because it gave him something to let his frustration and boredom out on.

But after a while, it started to feel normal.

He would wake up early and get dressed, before meeting up with everyone to eat breakfast. Lance would joke around with Hunk and make everyone laugh, Coran would occasionally recall stories of Altea, Allura would scold them (and join in), Shiro would just shake his head and smile, and Pidge would just enjoy the other’s company. After that it was training exercises, whether it be group or by himself, and then Coran would make them do odd jobs around the castle. It was nice, and felt oddly domestic.

One day, Keith had woken up early, and ended up just strolling through the castle, he’d notice the ever growing collection of souvenirs from missions, and the occasional scratch or burn that never got fully fixed.

He’d noticed a lot more things lately. From his fellow teammates weird habits to how everyone interacted.

Keith realised something one day, it was just like any other day. Hunk had crowded them all into the dining hall for breakfast, Keith, for one, was very thankful for this (even if he wasn’t sure how to express it), without Hunk making sure everyone ate at least two meals per day Keith was sure he’d be missing a lot more meals than he should’ve.

Keith looked around the dinner table, trying to hide the small smile on his face. Maybe the castle wasn’t the same type of home he’d imagined when he was younger, but honestly, it was the best home he’d ever had.


End file.
